


A Delicate Touch

by verushka70



Series: Contemplating the Complexities [2]
Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verushka70/pseuds/verushka70
Summary: “When she first turned me,” Mick whispered haltingly, “I wouldn’t drink – them. Coraline fed me. Could you do that?”Josef’s hand tightened on the door knob. He hadn’t counted on Mick… testing him this way, though Mick likely had no idea.“If that’s what you want.” Josef struggled to keep his voice even.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gratitude to [Tarlan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan) for beta-ing!
> 
> Follows [Much To Learn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10255898) (set in early 1950s, not long after Mick is turned by Coraline).

The pounding on his door this close to sunrise startled Josef. He rose from the sofa where he'd been listening to his phonograph, relaxing before going to his electric icebox. New inventions were wonderful. His dressing gown lay over a chair back, so he put it on and went to the door. He unlocked it but left the chain on just to be on the safe side, but he had a hunch who it would be.

When he opened his door the few inches the chain allowed he saw Mick, just as he'd expected. His eyes were glowing, his teeth fanged, his face scratched and slightly bloodied but already healing, slowly. He'd had the sense to put a fedora on, at least, to somewhat hide his unnatural eyes and teeth. His scrapes, Josef noted, would have been healed by the time he got to Josef's if Mick had the sense to drink as much blood daily as he was supposed to.

"I've left her," Mick burst out.

"Again?" Josef replied smoothly. “And a good evening to you too, Mick.”

"Oh, come on, Josef, let me in. I've left her and I've got nowhere else to go," Mick said breathlessly.

Josef stifled a groan. "Fine," he sighed, shutting the door. He unlatched the chain and then opened the door again fully. "Come in, then."

"Thank you," Mick said after he rushed in and whirled around to face the door.

"You think she followed you?" Josef asked as he shut the door and leaned back against it.

"I never know what she'll do," Mick muttered. "She might come here. She might not."

Josef suppressed the urge to snap at him. "She probably would, if it weren’t so close to sunrise. But sunrise doesn't mean she won’t come, either."

He stepped away from the door and came closer to Mick. He boldly took Mick's fedora off him, and cheekily put it on himself. Then he peered curiously at the almost healed scratches and scrapes on Mick's face. "Did you get her as good as she got you?"

"Josef," Mick murmured, stepping back. "It isn't funny."

"No, it isn’t," Josef agreed. "All I need is a paper cone of popcorn – I’ve already got a ringside seat. You two are like the Friday night fights."

"Can't you ever be serious about anything?" Mick snatched his fedora back from Josef and tossed it on the sofa. He began shrugging out of his trench coat.

"I am serious. And can't you use a closet?" Josef said sharply as Mick was about to throw his coat on the sofa.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Mick muttered, turning to the closet door. "Where's Karl?" he added almost petulantly, hanging his trench coat on a hanger and turning to get the fedora.

"Even Karl gets a day off now and then. Besides, the less he sees, the better."

"It's not like he has keys to your inner sanctum," Mick continued, glancing around the living room.

"No, he doesn't. Neither does anyone else," Josef nodded, crossing the room to the phonograph and turning the volume up slightly for the last song. He stepped back to the sofa. "For all you know, I don't have room for you. Did you think of that?" he asked as he sat back down. He leaned back, never taking his eyes from Mick.

Mick's face fell. "Oh," he said slowly, dropping his eyes. If a vampire could blush, Josef thought, Mick might be blushing right now. "I – I can – find a men’s hotel–"

"That was rhetorical," Josef said shortly. "Mick," he said more earnestly, "You need to plan ahead when you do this. What if I were out of town? What if you had nowhere else to go and you had to bed down outside somewhere, the sun sapping your strength and Coraline looking for you?"

"I, uh – I didn't plan it. It just happened." Mick mumbled.

"Like everything else with you two just 'happens’,” Josef grumbled.

"Did she come to you, too?" Mick asked.

"First of all," Josef said rather severely, "You just left her, so that should be the last thing you care about. You’re trying to get away from her; that means you don't _care_ what Coraline does. You only care about yourself."

"You know what I mean."

"No," Josef replied sharply, "I don't. If it's a choice between myself and any other person, I choose myself. And so should you."

"Fine, fine, I choose myself," Mick barked dismissively. "Just answer the question!"

"First of all, no you don't. If you did, you would have called ahead of time, explained your plan, and asked for my help. And I would have agreed. _Then_ you would have left Coraline. Second, no, she hasn't come to me." He paused. "Yet."

"Meaning what?" Mick asked, rather plaintively.

"Meaning," Josef began with a sigh, "She will eventually.” He shrugged. “She knows you would come to me."

"What will you tell her?"

"The same things I tell you about her."

"You never tell me anything about her," Mick growled.

"Exactly," Josef said firmly. “You can stay. I don’t approve of how… Coraline handled things.” He gestured around at his home in general. “Help yourself to anything you want. Beyond that, I’m not getting any more involved than I already am.”

But I have so much to show you, Josef thought.

“Handled ‘things’?” Mick emphasized the euphemism.

“Handled _you_ ,” Josef admitted. The phonograph had finished, and the record spun with the needle stuck in the last crackling groove.

"Josef, it's not like I... planned this,” Mick began. “ _Any_ of it," he emphasized.

Josef got up from the sofa to take the needle off the record and secure it. He held up a hand.

"Don't go back down that road, Mick. I know you didn't choose this. I agree: it was wrong of Coraline to do it without asking, without fully disclosing all the benefits and disadvantages. But there’s nothing to be done now.

“The past is written in stone,” Josef added flatly. “You can't go back and change it. There’s no point mourning your lost mortality. You can't get it back.” He paused, watching Mick turn slowly away and look down at his hands. Josef turned the phonograph off. He should put the record away, but it would be all right on the platter for now.

“Just… get on with it,” Josef added gently. “This life offers many delights you could enjoy, if you just let yourself." He closed the phonograph cover, stepped back to the sofa, and sat down.

Mick looked down at his hands clasped together between his knees. "I suppose," he finally spoke quietly, "you mean freshies."

"Among many other things,” Josef said softly, “yes, there are freshies."

Mick looked up at him, surprised at the unexpected change in Josef's tone

“Josef, every time I–” Mick shook his head. “I can't forget the ones I–” He trailed off and put his face in his hands.

“Which is exactly why you should drink from willing freshies.”

“It just means others died unnecessarily,” Mick said miserably.

“You didn't know that then,” Josef soothed. “Now you do. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But–”

“No 'but's, Mick. You're like a starving Hindu whose first desperate meal is beef – and then he can't stop obsessing about it, like that one act condemns him for all time. When you were human, did you think of the slaughterhouses your food came from?”

Mick winced, sitting back slowly.

“Of course not,” Josef continued matter-of-factly. “You just dug in. You're higher in the food chain than cattle.”

“Don't lecture me, Josef,” Mick sighed.

“Mick. Every animal, bird, insect in this world eats other living things to survive. Self-preservation is not a sin. It’s natural.”

“All right,” Mick said with resignation.

They both said nothing for a moment.

“You were saying?” Josef smiled, breaking the silence.

“Fine. I get it.” Mick tried to smile but wasn’t very successful.

“I don't think you do. Freshies, Mick.” Josef tried a persuasive tone. “They _want_ to give us their blood. We don’t kill them, they are consenting, they can refuse at any time.”

“As if any of your freshies would refuse you,” Mick muttered.

“You might be surprised to know that, yes, sometimes they do.”

“Josef, they just give their blood for the... fringe benefits you can offer them.”

“Your band sometimes played clubs only for free drinks!” Josef pointed out.

“I was thinking more of... prostitutes,” Mick smiled wryly.

“Of course you were.” Josef dismissively waved his hand. “Sure, there are things we _want_. My freshies like jewelry; a large bracelet hides bite wounds. Two birds, one stone. Your band wanted free drinks.” He shrugged. “Things we want, we usually don't need. But think of the things we _do need:_ we need to eat to live. If you don't want to kill, you don't have to. Get a freshie. Or two or three. Or _five_. Use mine. I don't mind – just don't kill anyone without asking me first.”

Mick groaned. “Not the most convincing argument.”

“Mick, you grew up in a city. You didn’t grow up on a farm where the lambs you took care of in spring became dinner in fall and winter. That's the way humans have lived for millennia.” Josef shrugged again. “It's the way of the world.”

“It's moral relativism.”

“Only if you consider humans inherently superior to sheep.” Josef smiled wickedly.

“Let's just – stop talking about it.”

“Fine,” Josef said, irked. “There are better topics. Such as… did you enjoy yourself the last time you were here?” He pressed a button on the wall near the door.

Mick stood up and paced a few steps. “It’ll be sunrise soon,” he muttered.

“Did you, or did you not, enjoy yourself the last time you were here? Fully sate your hunger?” Josef was through being gentle.

Mick hung his head. “Yes,” he admitted quietly.

“You slept well,” Josef pointed out.

He knew that because they’d all slept together – he, Paloma, and Mick – both vampires curled around the warm, living human.

“Yes,” Mick growled. He turned and looked at Josef. “Let’s just be direct.”

“Okay,” Josef agreed. “You had three freshies that night, you slept like a rock, and you arose well-rested when the sun set that night. Don’t bother to deny it.”

“I won’t,” Mick sighed. He sucked in a breath like a human. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

Josef narrowed his gaze at Mick. “Then what were you talking about?”

“The three of us. Together. In bed.”

Josef paused and merely arched an eyebrow, letting the silence between them lengthen. Mick, to his credit, didn’t drop his gaze. Neither of them blushed; they couldn’t, but Josef wondered if Mick would have if he were still human.

Finally Mick exhaled. “It was nice,” he admitted.

Josef paused. This required a delicate touch. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “‘Nice’?”

“Okay, more than nice,” Mick said softly. His gaze slid away from Josef’s a moment, and then snapped back. “Fine, I’ll just ask: are you trying to seduce me, Josef?”

Josef’s slow smile was warm. “Why, I never,” he parodied a melodramatic movie line. “I could ask you the same thing, Mr. St. John.”

“Me?” Mick’s voice was suddenly thick. “Why would I try to seduce you?”

“Insult to injury!” Josef pressed a hand to his chest as if wounded. “Am I not worthy of seduction?”

“Wait a minute, this is – you’re turning this all around,” Mick held up a hand in protest. “You know I’ve seen you in action.”

Josef chuckled. “You have. My tricks laid bare. But.” He dropped his gaze and examined his hands. “Could this not be a mutual seduction?” He looked up, trying to keep his expression neutral, suppressing the sudden, strange swell of hope in his chest.

Mick dropped his eyes, shoved his hands in his pockets, and shrugged. “What would anyone find worth seducing about me now?...” He hesitated, then cleared his throat. “This is, uh, new territory for me.”

Josef paused a moment, then spoke. “Being a vampire, or the sexual possibilities that come with it?” he asked.

Mick swiped a hand through his hair nervously, but didn’t speak. For a moment Josef’s heart stopped. Sometimes Mick’s features were surprisingly youthful and angelic, but Josef loved nothing more than watching Mick’s transition from that to unapologetically vampiric. Watching Mick come _undone_ when he finally let go and drank hungrily from a freshie was deeply thrilling.

“This can’t be entirely new,” Josef said softly. “You were in the military. Don’t tell me no man ever… offered,” he finished.

Mick looked up at him and opened his mouth to reply. Just then a knock came at the door. Josef rose smoothly from his seat on the sofa.

“It’s all right, Mick,” he said seriously. “Whatever you need here, it’s yours – freely given by a friend. You’re under absolutely no obligation. Mi casa, and all that.” He truly meant what he said.

He moved toward the door, but dropped a hand on Mick’s upper arm and squeezed it gently.

“For the record...” Josef released Mick’s upper arm and proceeded past him. He grasped the doorknob, but didn’t turn it. He spoke quietly over his shoulder. “You’re an attractive new vampire coming into his own. _Everything_ about it is seductive – to anyone with _eyes_.

“But most important is that you enjoy it – without melodrama or guilt. I want you to have that. You _need_ that. That’s what I’m offering, no strings attached.” Josef paused. “Excuse me.” He turned back toward the door.  
  
“Wait.” Mick stepped close, suddenly, and caught Josef’s sleeve.

“Sir?” came the butler’s muffled voice from outside the door.

“Just a moment,” Josef said through the door. “Yes, Mick?” Josef murmured in a timbre only a vampire could hear.

“When she first turned me,” Mick whispered haltingly, “I wouldn’t drink – them. Coraline fed me – her own blood. Can w-we,” he stuttered endearingly, “could you do that? With your blood?”

Josef’s hand tightened on the knob. He had to consciously relax it, or he’d break it. He hadn’t counted on Mick… testing him this way, though Mick likely had no idea that was what he was doing.

“If that’s what you want.” Josef struggled to keep his voice even.

“That’s what I want,” Mick whispered, with a final tug on the sleeve of Josef’s dressing gown before he stepped away.

“All right,” Josef nodded. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the door before he realized it. Behind his closed eyes a vision rose: he and Mick locked in an embrace, Mick’s lips on his neck, his jugular, straight from the source. In a split second, his mind went further: he and Mick locked _naked_ in an embrace, Mick’s lips on his neck.

Josef opened his eyes and straightened up, hoping Mick hadn’t seen his moment of weakness.

“All right,” Mick repeated behind him. Josef felt that pang once again.

“But I need to drink freshies to feed you,” Josef cautioned. He pushed away the sudden image he saw of he and Mick with a freshie, going farther than they had with Paloma. “And you need to drink from freshies, too – not me exclusively.”

“Okay,” Mick whispered.

Josef tightened his posture, turned the door knob, and greeted the butler. “Two girls, my good man,” he said in a normal voice. “And more wine for the girls.”

As the butler departed, Josef paused at the door. He had expected to handle things delicately but he hadn’t expected it to get so complicated, so quickly. But Mick was a war veteran, a complex fledgling – and Coraline had botched his turning. Mick had a right to – no, a _need_ to – revel guiltlessly in his vampirism.

Josef suppressed a sudden spark of worry.  Mick would set the pace. Whether a direct line or in fits and starts, it would probably be an uphill battle as much with Mick’s rebellion against Coraline’s tragic and selfish act as with his inherent morals.

For some reason, Josef was uncertain what he wanted more: to help free Mick’s inner vampire, or to take Mick to bed. He found himself contemplating the complexities of both with a sympathy and yearning he hadn’t felt in years. He turned and leaned back against the door, looking at Mick.

“The butler is on his way back with a couple of willing participants,” he reassured.

Mick gazed back at him uncertainly, the slight hope in his expression infectious.


End file.
